Chapter 6 - The Long Island Vault
Clara’s heart seized. "You wouldn't."
"Try me, Clara!" Julian snarled, his thumb hovering millimeter away from the red button. "You want your revenge? Walk out of here right now. Let me sign the papers, leave the country, and I'll leave the vault intact. Step one foot closer, and your father's legacy burns to ash!"
The room was dead quiet. The red light on the detonator blinked like a rhythmic heartbeat of death.
Dante looked at Clara. For a second, he saw the terrified girl from the alley flicker behind her eyes. But then she took a breath, her fingers tightening around her brass key.
"Dante," Clara said quietly, without turning around. "Do you trust your men?"
"With my life," Dante replied.
"Good," Clara said.
Before Julian could process her words, Clara lunged forward. She didn't go for the detonator—she grabbed a heavy, antique bronze bust sitting on a pedestal beside the stairs and slammed it with all her strength into Julian’s arm.
Julian screamed as his arm buckled. The detonator flew from his grip, bouncing down the marble steps.
"Now, Dante!" Clara yelled.
Dante fired a single, precise shot. The bullet struck the falling detonator in mid-air, shattering the circuit board into a dozen useless plastic pieces before it hit the ground.
Julian scrambled backward on his hands and knees, terror overwhelming him as Dante walked up the stairs, the smoking gun held loosely at his side.
"You're a fool, Julian," Dante said, looking down at the disgraced executive. "My team took control of your Long Island property twenty minutes before we walked into this building. Your men are already in the back of a van."
Dante motioned to two of his men, who grabbed Julian by his arms, dragging him to his feet.
"Take him to the compound," Dante ordered. "Keep him alive until the morning."
Clara stood at the top of the stairs, looking down at her uncle as he was dragged away, kicking and screaming into the rain. The crowd of reporters snapped endless photos, their cameras flashing like white lightning.
Dante stepped beside her, offering his arm once again.
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"It's not over yet," Clara whispered, looking up at him. "The legal papers... the bank transfers... we need to get to the Long Island vault before his corrupt lawyers seal the estate."
"Then we ride," Dante said. "And tonight, we settle the score for good."
